When Life Was Too Hard
by Topazwolf
Summary: What does Kel do when life gets too hard? PG for a mild violence. please r/r


A/N: This is another sad fic, I fell like righting one b/c I just saw this sad movie. I hope you like it, I really hope this doesn't happen, well it didn't happen but it could have, it was just an idea I had so no flames please! Review!!! This is in Kel's first year as a page.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me ::sigh:: it's all Tamora Pierce's.

Kel sat down, hard. She would _not _cry, ever. She had gotten into another fight with Joren and his cronies tonight. Her eye was black again and her nose hurt worse than it ever had before, she didn't know if it would ever look right again. Joren was picking on people more than ever now, and to top it all off Lord Wyldon was giving her a punishment at every turn. She couldn't even walk out of her own door now, for fear a bucket, of water or some thing worse awaited to drop on her head, making her late for yet another meal. Peachblossom was sick, Daine was gone somewhere, Stephan said that Peachblossom was dying, and if Daine didn't return in the next week, which she wouldn't, he would die. Kel didn't know what to do. For the first time in her life she had no idea what to do. The salty tears that slipped out of her eyes now burned her numerous cuts. She tried to shove away all the sadness and anger to make it all go away. She stood against it defiantly and grabbed her practice glaive, but as soon as she started a practice she faltered, the glaive swung around and clipped her shoulder, adding to her many cuts. She fell to her knees the glaive forgotten and she cried because she was hurt, because she scared, and because life was just too hard. She stood now, disturbingly calm. Some one knocked on her door, once, twice.

"Kel?" Neal called through the door. Kel ignored it and soon she heard retreating footsteps. 

Kel knew what she had to do, some would say it was a coward's was out, but she knew it wasn't. At least that's what she told herself. She couldn't go home now; she could never face her parent or her friends, again. Just yesterday her parents send her a letter saying how proud they were and how brave she was, she didn't feel brave now. Slowly she opened one of her drawers, the one where she kept her dresses, she moved the top one's away reviling a beautiful blue-green dress that shimmered when she moved and made her look like she was floating. Carefully she pulled it from the drawer. She had never worn it before, her parents had bought it for special occasions, she couldn't think of one more special than now. Quickly she pulled off her shirt and breeches, as if they all of a sudden burned her skin, she looked at the dress before slowly pulling it on, she felt the soft satin as it slipped over her shoulders. The dress fit perfectly, it sweeped the floor and the sleeve reached her wrists and flared slightly. She looked at her self in the mirror, numbly she ran a brush through her hair, and as an after though she reached for the jar of hair glitter and sprinkled some in her hair. She might as well look nice, the last time she, well, looked. She walked back to her bed and reached under the mattress, she pulled out the knife that had been delivered to her from a mysterious benefactor. She unsheathed it and laid it on the table, she got a parchment and began to write.

__

I'm sorry to everyone. To everyone that believed I could do it, to everyone that I should have stood up for, to everyone I loved and admired, and to myself. I should have listened when I was told girls couldn't win. Don't feel guilty, I did this not you. To my parents, who only offered love and support, this was not your fault in any way, I love you. To Neal, my best friend, the one who accepted me but could never understand me, I love you. No one could understand, how could they, I chose this fate, I new what was to come, I must have been mad. I know I am now, this place has made me crazy, with anger, fear, and sadness. I'll miss you. Goodbye.

Despite herself Kel started to cry, a tear fell on the note. She wiped her eyes, she wouldn't cry, not now, not ever again. She grabbed her knife and peered out the door and left. She silently walked down the halls in her soft shoes. She left the palace through a side door and entered the gardens; she walked to the garden that was far off in the corner. She approached it and unlatched the squeaky gate. She walked down a path with dead flowers at its sides. She sat on a bench in the middle and looked around one last time. She said a silent prayer to the gods, more with feelings than words. She laid down on the vine-strangled bench and raised the knife. She didn't scream, or make a sound when the knife impaled her, ruining the gown, turning a blood red. She closed her eyes. The garden sat still and silent, vines crawled up the walls, and the flowers wilted rapidly. A lonely tree, which bore no leaves stood lamely in the middle of the garden. It made the perfect death scene.

:: wipes a tear away:: Review

~Topazwolf~


End file.
